One paint tube at a time
by jezebeljade
Summary: Sometimes the smallest gesture of kindness saves the world as well as the grandest act. Reposted following slight editing.


Annie was in that strange limbo that came around every six months or so. Her body was dead on its feet from exhaustion, but her mind seemed wide awake and buzzing from far too much coffee. She felt like this every semester when finals came around, and every semester she swore that she'd never do this to herself again.

As the customer in front of her moved away with his purchase, Annie set a tube of paint on the counter and began to draw some crumpled bills and loose change from her pocket. _That'll be $4.79_, she hummed to herself in her head. _Would you like fries with that?_ She almost giggled. The idea of being offered french fries at the hobby store seemed very funny to her very tired brain.

"That'll be $6.57 please," the cashier stated as she rang up the paint. Annie looked up sharply and froze as she counted out the last of her pennies. "But...I thought...the sale?"

"I'm sorry, that sale ended on Friday," the cashier offered apologetically. "It's back up to full price now."

"Oh no." Annie's mind froze like a deer in the headlights as she tried to think of what to do. She couldn't go home and get two more dollars. The store would be closing in ten minutes. And she didn't have two more dollars as it was. She had forgone the laundry this week just to afford this one tube of paint.

"Problem?" asked a voice from behind. Annie turned around to a tall, darkly clothed man and a blonde girl in a track jacket. They were each laden down with tubes of super glue, rolls of duct tape, florist's wire, several bundles of brightly colored yarn, and a bag of jelly beans apiece.

"I, er...," Annie stuttered. She wasn't in the habit of spilling her problems onto strangers in the check-out aisle, but these two had a nice feeling about them. Trustworthy. The tall man instantly reminded Annie of her favorite uncle, who had a tendency to give you advice you didn't ask for, but usually wound up using. _Oh, what the hell._ "My final painting for my oils studio is due in two days, I need this paint to finish it, I need it tonight, and thanks to good ol' college student poverty, I'm short a few dollars."

"Well then," the man answered with a small smile, "just tack it in with our lot, yeah?" He and the girl dumped their armloads on the counter, the super glue and jelly beans sweeping onto the surface as though to make a cocoon around Annie's paint. "All together now," he directed towards the cashier, and the way he said it sounded as though he had been planning to pay for the paint all along, but allowed Annie to tell her story before he did so.

Annie was a little dumbfounded. "Really, that's very kind, but you don't have to do that."

"Call it a gift," the stranger said without looking. He and the girl began to pool their money, their heads bent together as they counted the coins.

It was late, Annie was tired, and her brain was just refusing to come up with an option better than letting this sort-of-uncle and his companion pick up her tab. "Then, thank you. I'm really very grateful."

The stranger flashed her a very quick, very wide grin as he handed over his money and swept his entire lot into a paper bag. The blonde girl picked the paint up off of the counter and handed it to Annie, also with a friendly smile. "I'm Rose," she offered with a handshake as they headed for the doors.

"Annie. Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise, Annie," the man greeted, shaking her hand as well.

"Are y'all on vacation from Britain," Annie asked, curious now about her art project saviors.

"You could say that we just sort of...travel about a bit," the man answered as Rose gave a small smirk.

Annie laughed, "Then how'd you end up in a tiny town like this? It's not the sort of place I'd travel to."

"Ah, well, we were just passing through and needed to pop off for some supplies," Rose said, shooting the man a glare that wasn't entirely unfriendly. He pretended not to notice.

"Well, is there somewhere that I can mail some bills to you? I'd like to pay you back for the paint."

"No need," the man said, "just doing our bit to support the arts."

"Are you sure? I could, I dunno, make you a sandwich?"

"Well then, Annie, there is one thing..." The man leaned in ever so slightly, gazing into her eyes. She was again reminded strongly of her uncle; he too could root you on the spot and look right into your soul.

"Never stop seeing the world through your own eyes. You've got a unique view, and it's something to be shared."

At these few words, a small, warm feeling spread through Annie, lifting some of the haze that had settled into her mind over the past few days.

The odd pair began to turn and walk off through the parking lot, the paper bag swinging slightly in his hand. "But before you go and start the next great art movement," he tossed over his shoulder, "I suggest a nap."

Annie giggled at his parting joke and waved goodbye to their fading figures. As she turned and walked to the bus stop, she felt more peaceful than she had all day. _A nap, huh? Sounds like a good idea to me._


End file.
